


Friendly Weather

by somanyopentabs



Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: Cold Weather, Friendship, Gen, Huddling For Warmth, M/M, Some Humor, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-22 16:35:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2514557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somanyopentabs/pseuds/somanyopentabs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short, pre-season one fic.  Ginoza and Kougami are both inspectors.  Kind of cracky fic where Ginoza doesn't quite know how to handle his emotions and Kougami's ridiculous flirting, if it can even be called that.  </p>
<p>(Also, Ginoza bickering with people he is actually fond of gives me life.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friendly Weather

It’s been getting colder and colder every day now. Ginoza is wearing the warmest coat he owns, and it still doesn’t keep him from flinching when the wind whips around them again. They’re waiting—he and his partner are, that is—for instructions from Sibyl. Something, or someone, caused a spike in the area stress levels. The spike was low and incredibly brief, so there’s a strong possibility they’ll be relieved of their watch soon. But for now, their orders are to stay on alert.

“It’s cold out here,” Kougami says, clutching at a cigarette. He’s wearing his regular suit jacket. Ginoza had resisted the urge, before they’d left, to tell Kougami to put on something warmer. He knew how it would sound, coming from him.

“Yes, you’ve mentioned it. Twice.” Ginoza can see his own breath when he talks. They could wait in the car, but then they wouldn’t be ready to pursue a suspect in the highly pedestrian area. Ginoza shoves his hands down deep into his coat pockets.

Ginoza’s hair, already mussed from the wind, falls into his eyes, and Kougami brushes it away for him.

“Aren’t you ever going to get a haircut?” Kougami asks, knowing all too well that it’s not going to happen.

“Yes, as soon as I stop spending fourteen hours a day at work, I’ll make that appointment.”

“Well, I could cut it for you.”

“No, thank you.”

“Why not? I cut my own hair.”

“You’ll cut it too short.”

“It needs to be shorter. It’s already in your eyes again. See?” Kougami painstakingly smoothes Ginoza’s hair back again.

Simply to be contrary, Ginoza shakes his head, undoing all of Kougami’s efforts, but also making him smile.

Minutes pass, and Kougami checks in with the system again. There’s nothing to update, no news at all.

“This is a waste of time.” Kougami finishes his cigarette and drops it onto the sidewalk. A robot rolls by and collects the litter, beeping a chastisement at Kougami.

“And you have better things to do?” Ginoza would rather not be here either, but he’s not going to just admit that. 

“Maybe I do.” Kougami spends as much time at the PSB as Ginoza does, so the statement doesn’t quite have the effect that Kougami was likely hoping for.

Kougami fiddles with his cigarette lighter, flicking it a few times. Ginoza feels stupidly entranced by the flame. The spell is only broken when Kougami starts to take out another cigarette. Ginoza can’t help the sound of derision he makes. It’s no secret that he hates Kougami’s smoking, but it irritates him even more when he bears witness to how often Kougami is reaching for another fix.

“What? I’m stuck out here,” Kougami responds defensively. “I need something to do with my hands.”

“I’m sure you can think of something,” Ginoza says. He doesn’t mean it like a challenge, really, but Kougami gets a look in his eyes, and Ginoza knows he’s made an error in judgment.

Without further warning, Kougami grabs Ginoza by the waist and spins him around until his back is against the wall of a building.

“What are you—your hands are freezing!” Ginoza protests as Kougami’s hands find their way underneath his coat, and then underneath his shirt as well. He tries to inch away, but the wall of the building is rough and he winds up moving back into Kougami’s touch once again.

“You’re so much warmer than me,” Kougami says.

“Yes, because I dress like a sane person for the time of year. Let go, we’re supposed to be watching for suspect activity.” 

Kougami grins and presses in closer. “But I need to keep my hands warm. How can I shoot a Dominator if my fingers are numb?”

“You’re doing this deliberately.”

“For warmth,” Kougami insists. He has his hands gently touching Ginoza’s stomach and chest.

Ginoza feels oddly comfortable with the arrangement, which is something he’d rather not analyze at the moment. He changes the subject. “It shouldn’t be too much longer before the drones report back. If they haven’t found anything, we can go.”

Kougami makes a sound of agreement. He shifts his body weight until he’s inches from leaning into Ginoza completely.

“You know, you can take your hands out of your pockets,” Kougami says, rather too thoughtfully.

Ginoza narrows his eyes at him over the lenses of his glasses. “Why? I’m staying warm enough.” With Kougami shielding him from the wind the way they were standing, it was almost true.

“I meant, I could return the favor.”

Ginoza stares at Kougami, uncomprehending.

“You could put them under my jacket, if you wanted,” Kougami clarifies.

“But then we would be all tangled up if and when the suspect passes by,” Ginoza argues.

“See, you say that I do things on purpose, and then you go and say things like that. You’re so stubborn.” Kougami’s grip on Ginoza tightens as he speaks.

“Oh, so now we’re trading insults?” Ginoza feels a flutter in his chest, and wonders why only Kougami can get this reaction out of him. They’re standing close enough together that Ginoza worries that Kougami can feel it too, how nervous he gets sometimes when he and Kougami fight. He doesn’t have a lot of friends—well, no. He has one friend. If he ever lost Kougami…

But Kougami only smiles, and shifts so that he can keep them both safe from the wind. “No, let’s not. I don’t want to make my portable heater upset with me.”

“Like that’s a better thing to say!” Ginoza protests.

Before Kougami can respond (with a possibly more ridiculous retort), the go-ahead to return to HQ comes in from Sybil.

“Good, let’s go,” Ginoza says, waiting impatiently for Kougami to wriggle free from the confines of his outerwear.

They walk back to the car, Kougami taking the driver’s seat.

“Wow, even the steering wheel is cold,” Kougami says, pulling a pair of gloves out of his pocket.

“You had those the whole time?!”


End file.
